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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25121857">That White Room</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theultimatenerd04/pseuds/theultimatenerd04'>theultimatenerd04</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Child Tony Stark, Gen, More tags to be added, Synesthesia, Teenager Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, but will a sort of happy ending, no beta we die like men, tony stark has synesthesia, tony stark hears voices</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:09:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25121857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theultimatenerd04/pseuds/theultimatenerd04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has been in this room for so long, staring at these white walls. He has so much more time to think, to hear and listen to the voices that keep him company. Sometimes the maid comes in, accompanied by swirling bronze. Tony thinks that it’s pretty but mostly he just wants to leave. He’s only 13. When will he be allowed to get out? He hates this white room.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Howard Stark &amp; Maria Stark &amp; Tony Stark, Howard Stark &amp; Tony Stark, Maria Stark &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>That White Room</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was Tony Stark. He was supposed to be a genius. And in a way he was. It just wasn’t the way everyone around him wanted. But who cared about what everyone wanted? He did. He did and he hated it. He had to care. Otherwise bad things happen. He had to keep up the Stark image. Stark men were made of iron. He was made of iron. </p>
<p>But he wasn’t. So now he was stuck here, staring at these bland, white walls, thinking, All he did was think. Think about how he got here, about he would do when he got out. If he would ever get out. </p>
<p>“Mr Stark? Are you awake?”</p>
<p>Dull bronze floated into the room, accompanied by the warm voice. </p>
<p>“Hi, Trisha.”</p>
<p>Bronze echoed around her with every step she took, twisting and turning in an elaborate dance as she cleaned. The 13 year old wished he could join in but he knew that would just mean he would be in here for longer. He had to be normal. </p>
<p>“Do you know when I’m going to be allowed out?” His voice went higher at the end of the question, belaying his hope and Tony winced at how childish he sounded. </p>
<p>Trisha sighed. “I wish I had a different answer, kid. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>With that, she backed out the way she came in, giving him a small smile before she closed the door. The beautiful bronze was gone and Tony gave himself a minute to mourn before lowering himself onto the floor. His back on the lumpy carpet, he trained his eyes on the darting shadows on the wall. </p>
<p>The darkness flickered and twisted as the sun dipped behind the clouds, changing shapes as they wished. Once, they almost looked human and Tony had had fun pretending that they were his friends coming to visit him. That had been one of the best days but then the sun set, the shadows disappeared and the claws of loneliness gripped him all the tighter. </p>
<p>Tony wasn’t sure how long he had been in the room but he was sure that by now, he had just about counted every crack and dent in the walls and ceiling. </p>
<p>He spent all day staring at the ceiling, staring at the shadows climbing the walls. As the sun dipped below the horizons and the shadows went to their resting place, the voices started speaking. They told many things, many amazing things. If he listened to them, he could change the world. Tony was smart. He knew what the voices were saying to him could work. It could help make the world better. </p>
<p>Everyone always told him not to listen to the voices but how could he not? They were the only constants in his life apart from the four white walls he was trapped in. As soon as the darkness creeped up his walls, they started talking and they didn't stop. Not until the sun started emerging and light flooded his small room. </p>
<p>They were the reason for the dark circles on his face that are larger than his eyes. They didn’t let him sleep. Not when there were things they could talk about. It was at night when the voices got too loud that he broke. His father would be so disappointed but Tony couldn’t help it. The voices were too loud, too overwhelming and he just started screaming and crying. </p>
<p>The nurses and therapists came in. They all thought he was going to hurt himself. He wasn’t going to but he couldn’t tell them that.  His throat was closed over, he couldn’t breathe let alone sleep.</p>
<p> Later the nurses told him it was a panic attack. He had to go to mandatory counselling. After that, Tony taught himself how to cry quietly, to scream without making any noise. If he wanted to get out of the room, he couldn’t show any weakness. That’s what got him stuck there in the first place. Stark men are made of iron. </p>
<p>A few days later, his father called him. The room became awash in a bloody red. It didn’t dance like Trisha’s bronze, instead it soaked through the walls, penetrating even the smallest crack. It suffocated him. His father asked him if he was out of the room yet. When Tony told him no, his father cussed at him. Howard said that he was insane. That he was crazy. It hurt. </p>
<p>Tony lay in bed that night in a white room, devoid of any red, thinking. Howard called him crazy but Tony didn’t think he was. Maybe he was when he had those panic attacks but that was only once. The rest of the time he could function normally. The colours and the voices were just embellishments, just something a little extra. Tony didn’t think either were anything bad. </p>
<p>Maybe the voices kept him awake at night and maybe the colours became overwhelming occasionally but they shaped who he was. They may have gotten him stuck inside this white room but his experiences shaped his personality and character. Without them, he wouldn’t be him. </p>
<p>So Howard thought he was crazy. Tony knew he wasn’t. If his father actually hung around for a while and tried to understand him, he would be able to see him for who he really is. Someone worthy to be a part of the Stark family. But no. His father never tried. He could never get past the memories of what Tony did the last time he was free of this place. </p>
<p>Tony was catching a train back from school. He was trying to solve an equation he had found in a textbook. The voices were trying to help him but they ended up just confusing him. Tony told them to be quiet but they didn’t want to. They got into an argument. He didn’t realise he was speaking out loud. He would have done it if he had known he was speaking out loud. </p>
<p>Everyone started whispering, sneaking glances at him. Tony remembered feeling the hairs rise on his neck. Remembered wondering if there was something wrong with him. Was there? </p>
<p>He didn’t know how it got back to Howard but the next thing he knew was his mother’s tears and the small white room. If anything, Tony thought he would be more likely to go crazy stuck in this room. With all the time to think, maybe he would lose his mind. </p>
<p>He started to talk in his sleep again. Arguing. The voices wouldn’t leave him alone. He had to get an outlet. It wasn’t Tony’s fault he was different. Why should he need to be punished? His quirks never hurt anyone. </p>
<p>The white room was only making everything worse. It was slowly killing him, leaching the life out from his body. The voices told him to run, to get out while he still could. Tony didn’t want to. His face had yet to develop wrinkles, he had barely hit puberty. Could he really survive out there all on his own? </p>
<p>All he wanted was for his parents to see him as who he really was. A genius. Someone worthy to be a Stark. But… he wanted to raise awareness for people who were like him. It wasn’t fair that people should have to be locked up for being a bit different. </p>
<p>Even from a young age, Tony had always been able to see the greys of the world. He had been able to ignore them but now he couldn’t. He may be young but he could make a difference. Tony knew he was a genius. All he had to do was utilise it. Maybe then, he could make his parents proud. That was all he wanted. </p>
<p>Tony took a deep breath in, fingers clenching around the coarse bed sheets. The voices were usually right. He would do it. He would leave. He would get an education. He would make a difference. </p>
<p>He would make his parents proud.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Look at me, actually updating for once! This story is heavily based on the song Unwell by Matchbox 20. It’s a really good song so go give it a listen. </p>
<p>Quick disclaimer: I wrote all of this on my phone so if there’s any spelling mistakes, that’s why.  I’m going to edit it when I get back to my laptop but until then, thanks for your patience.</p>
<p>Anyway, don’t forget to drop a kudos or comment and tell me what you thought! Thank you!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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